


The Curious Incident of the Dinosaur in the Daytime

by doxydejour



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 06:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16571033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxydejour/pseuds/doxydejour
Summary: The Maximal's newest weapon has turned what was once a terrifying, calculating villain into an affable dinosaur who just wants to nap all the time. Inferno is concerned. Rampage is delighted.





	The Curious Incident of the Dinosaur in the Daytime

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a really dumb excuse for fluff and I make no apologies for it.

There were some creatures in the world, Inferno knew, that were born into it with no sense of purpose. Of belonging. Of  _ belief _ . Rampage was one such creature. He had a purpose in destruction, but he belonged to no colony and believed in nothing - not even himself. He destroyed without consideration, without direction, without thought.  A weapon with a mind that didn’t want to think. On a purely technical basis Inferno should be frightened of him, but he was not. The Royalty had that situation under control. And Inferno believed in the Royalty. 

Inferno had purpose: to serve the colony. 

And Inferno belonged in the colony.

And Inferno  _ believed _ in the colony. 

And in his Royalty. 

...But. 

He had been stood guard outside the Royalty’s door for two days now. Ever since they had staggered -  _ no, the Royalty did not stagger _ \- strategically retreated back to the colony after a disastrous -  _ no,  wrong word, re-calibrate _ \- strategically planned defeat -  _ not defeat, the Royalty is never defeated _ \- strategically planned  _ strategy _ to  _ not _ destroy the Maximals and their precious Axalon.

Yes. 

Inferno rubbed his forehead with his sharp claws. Thinking had become somewhat harder since they had returned to the Darksyde - since he and the Royalty had been struck by that strange energy beam the accursed Rhinox had unloaded on them. It hadn’t hurt, exactly, but he’d gone cold and for a moment had forgotten how to fire his missile launcher. The idea of its awesome destructive power had seemed... _ wrong _ , somehow. He’d heard snatches of conversation between the Maximals as they blasted one another across the battlefield, but the words had made no sense to his warrior-minded processor.  _ Pacify. Hopefully, anyway _ . 

But then he’d shaken his head and the world had come back into focus, and he’d been back to merrily blasting away at the enemies of his Queen as though nothing had ever happened. The Royalty had called a retr-  _ a strategic strategy _ a few moments later, and they had returned to the colony. His Queen had slunk into his room, still in his awe-in-Inferno-inspiring Beast mode, without giving any further orders and so Inferno had chosen to station himself outside the doors until he was needed. 

And here he still was, two whole days later. Still order-less. But not purposeless. He was here to serve his Royalty and the colony, even if nothing was strictly required of him right now. He would stand in this corridor until he was ordered to do something else! And he would do so proudly!

Truth be told, he had left the door twice. Briefly. Both times to fetch a draught of energon from the dispenser - and both times he’d found Rampage lurking around the corner on his return. And both times they’d stared one another down, each weighing up the option of slagging the other, before breaking off as Rampage grumbled and scuttered away.

_ He wants to know what the Royalty is doing _ , Inferno thought angrily to himself, scratching harder at his head.  _ My Royalty. He has no right! The Queen of this colony may act in whatever manner he pleases. Even if that manner is staying in his throne room and speaking to no-one! _

Inferno had heard some movement behind the door, mostly loud shuffling noises and a few splashes of liquid that he had taken to be the Queen enjoying his beloved energon bath, but apart from that there had been nothing. Which was fine. The Royalty was probably resting up before their next epic battle with the Maximals! 

_ Or he’s injured _ .

Inferno blinked.  _ The Royalty does not get injured _ , he scolded himself.  _ My Queen is powerful and _ -

_ Don’t be an imbecile. You’ve seen him in the repair bay. You’ve seen the wires and energon and motors. You’ve seen him wrench Waspinator’s arm from its socket after he mis-repaired one of his knee joints. Even one such as the Royalty is subject to injury. And what if he’s injured now? Stuck in his room whilst his most loyal follower hangs about uselessly outside the door and doesn’t assist him? _

Inferno had already spun on his heels before his own programming put a halt to him raising his fist to bang on the door.  _ If my Queen required help, he would call for me on my radio. _

_ What if his radio is damaged? _

Inferno grit his teeth. As fervently as he  _ knew _ his Royalty was a strong, nigh-immortal figure who would not be subject to injury from some silly Maximal weapon, he also understood that he himself was a flawed creature who was capable of being wrong. And perhaps he was wrong now. Perhaps his Queen  _ did  _ need his help. Perhaps the voice was right…

Before he could think about it any further, Inferno tapped on the door and instinctively leapt back lest it slam open and disgorge a very displeased Royalty and an even more displeased Royalty’s right arm. 

It didn’t.

In fact, barring a small shuffling noise from inside the room, nothing happened.

Now Inferno was really alarmed. He was aware of how much he could irritate his Queen - entirely unintentionally, but his enthusiasm often clouded his judgement - and he would take his punishment for doing so accordingly. But the Royalty’s total lack of care about his intrusion upon his privacy was downright frightening. Not even in the throes of his darkest, most maudlin episodes did the Royalty ever pass up a chance to rent energon from his troops to sate his anger, as was his right as Queen. The silence Inferno was greeted with scared him more than a flash of fury and a limb pulled from its socket. 

He tapped on the door again, louder this time.

Nothing.

Louder.

Nothing.

A knock.

Another shuffling sound. Then nothing.

A bang. 

From behind the door, a snort. And then nothing.

Inferno bit his lip. This was most distressing indeed, and it was entirely up to him to solve. The spider was untrustworthy, Rampage was...a word  _ beyond _ untrustworthy, and the wasp wasn’t even worth considering. The other spider was dead to him.

“Royalty?” He said softly, before clearing his throat and repeating, louder: “Royalty? Are you well?”

Another snort, and a light bang - as though something was pressing against the door. Then the sound of retreating footsteps. Heavy, cumbersome. Lolling. Inferno recognised the gait; his Queen was still in his Beast mode. This surprised him; whilst his Royalty admired his Beast form for its power on the battlefield, Inferno knew that within the walls of the Darksyde he preferred to be in his robot mode. He liked using his hands for things. Like violence. 

“Royalty,” Inferno said again, “do you require anything of me?” 

Nothing. 

_ Open the door _ , the intrusive voice whispered in his audials.  _ You’ve got the override code for the lock. _ It was true, he did. The day his Royalty had provided him with it had been the best of his life; his Queen had recognised that Inferno would never do anything to imperil him and had rewarded this faith accordingly. But should he use it when it wasn’t strictly required, he knew that it would be taken away from him. Along with several limbs.

Idea. “Royalty,” he said, as loudly and as clearly as he had ever spoken, “I fear you are in distress so I am going to use the override to open your door. If you don’t want me to, please tell me.” 

Again, to his now weakening surprise, nothing. 

Inferno vented in indecision a few more moments, then lifted his clawed hand and typed the override code into the discreet panel on the wall. The doors slid open, and he stepped inside. As they closed behind him there came a scuttling sound from around the corner. A pair of large claws latched onto the wall as two large green eyes glared into the gloom. 

*

Inferno stood and stared. 

The Royalty was, as he had suspected, in his Beast mode. And he was covered in energon, which was splattered around the floor and walls in patches, with the energon bath itself looking decidedly empty save for a small mass of chewed yellow plastic in one corner. It was as though his Queen had perhaps jumped in it and splashed around, a far cry from his usual lounging. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all.

Except…

The Royalty was seated. Well. No. ‘Seated’ was the wrong word. Due to the large size of his hindquarters and the VTOL fans on his hips, combined with the  length and inflexibility of where his tail met his torso, it was not physically possible to achieve anything other than a crouch at best in his Beast mode. But it seemed his Queen had foregone this idea today: instead the back legs were outstretched, his tail pointed straight up in the air, and he was lying on his chest with his head lying flat on the floor, nose pointed towards Inferno. His smaller arms weren’t visible; Inferno guessed he was lying on them, and briefly wondered if that was comfortable.

“Erm…” He stuttered, at a loss for what else to say. “Royalty, I…” Megatron’s small red eyes had been on him as he moved into the room, and at the word ‘Royalty’, the dinosaur’s head tipped to one side, jaw scraping against the floor. “I’m sorry,” Inferno continued, and the head tipped the other. And then back again, as though he was trying to understand the words being offered to him. “I thought you were in need of assistance and…”

Slowly, pendulously, the large tail started to move from side to side, wagging in opposites to the movement of his head. Perhaps, thought Inferno, he was charging the laser in the tip of the tail, ready to strike at his most loyal follower for breaking the taboo of entering his chambers uninvited. He stilled and silenced, allowing his Royalty the opportunity to take aim and not miss -  _ not that the Royalty ever misses, such shameful thoughts! _

Nothing. 

‘Nothing’ was starting to become Inferno’s buzzword of the day. 

The tail stopped wagging and the head stopped moving. The dinosaur let out something between a snort and a huff, warm air from his internal vents blowing over Inferno from his large purple nostrils. His eyes were still glued to the ant, and there was something wrong in their expression. Inferno tried to work out what it was without staring. The word  _ vacant _ drifted across his processor and was immediately set alight by his cracked loyalty programming. 

“Royalty,” he said, slowly, and the dinosaur’s head tipped to the left. The eyes brightened. “Forgive me if I am overstepping my bounds as a simple soldier in your royal command, but...is your...vocaliser...functioning correctly?” 

The head-tilting stopped. The large jaws opened, showing rows and rows of sharp metal teeth, and Inferno braced himself. A low, rumbling “rufft” came from the Royalty’s throat, and then the jaws closed and the dinosaur wriggled his torso on the floor, tail wagging along lazily with the movement.

Inferno was stumped. “...Er…” He said, but then he immediately took several steps back as the wriggling turned into heaving, and tons of metal dinosaur hauled itself back to his feet and shook himself, sending a fine mist of energon once again over the floor, walls, and Inferno. His Queen padded forwards and he prepared himself to be bitten in half for his insolence.

Instead, his Royalty’s nose lightly bumped his chest, the two red eyes fixed on his face. When Inferno didn’t - couldn’t - react, he was bumped again and another small ‘boof’ emanated from the dinosaur’s throat. Despite how many times he must have shaken himself, his Queen was still coated in a light, gunky film of energon and it rubbed off on Inferno’s armour. The ant automatically raised his hand to wipe it away, all sense of decorum thoroughly muted for the moment and his Queen raised his head to nudge at his arm instead.

“I don’t know what you want,” said Inferno, which was true. He was also starting to wonder if he’d stupidly, negligently fallen asleep at his post outside the door and that this was all a dream. His Royalty butted his wrist again, and, full of uncertainty, he lowered his hand onto the dinosaur’s head. 

Another “boof”’, this one sounding...happier? He raised and lowered his hand several times in a patting motion, and then his Royalty pulled away - seeming satisfied. The dinosaur looked at him for a few more moments, then pushed past him to stomp over to the energon bath. He lowered his head and licked at the meagre energon still pooled at the bottom.

“That’s  _ waste energon _ !” Inferno protested before he could stop himself. “Royalty, there is no purpose in consuming that, it contains few nutrients for your form!”

His Queen raised his head from the bath and, once again, cocked it to one side. This time he did speak, if making a small “ooft?” could be constituted as speech. _Which it can. The Royalty can speak to me however he likes!_ _It sounds like a question, one I must answer._

_ If only I knew what I was being asked _ . 

He remembered the spare energon he had hidden in his tail compartment the last time he had visited a dispenser, and after some undignified wriggling managed to produce it without spilling too much. The dinosaur’s eyes sharpened and honed in on the small container with an intensity that was  _ almost _ recognisable, and Inferno held it out. He’d expected more licking, but instead the container - and his hand - vanished inside his Queen’s jaws.

A tooth pierced his palm and he cried out in pain before he could override his vocaliser. The dinosaur’s eyes widened in response, the mouth snapping open the container falling to the floor, smashing and spilling its contents everywhere. His Queen shied from him, tail drooping, odd high-pitched sounds coming from his throat, and when he moved to drop to his knees to ask forgiveness, an action so automatic to him he didn’t even realise he was doing it, the dinosaur moved further back. His tail struck the wall by the door and he let out what Inferno internally refused to describe as a “yelp” then spun around and snarled at the empty patch of metal.

_ I think, _ the voice from before whispered to Inferno,  _ it’s time to admit that there’s something wrong here _ . 

_ Nonsense _ , Inferno replied without much spark.  _ The Royalty can be angry at his architecture if he so wills it! _ But even he had to admit there wasn’t a lot of heat in his words and he stared anxiously at the large dinosaur who now seemed at a loss for what to do. The head swung back towards him and his Queen approached once again, but only to sniff tentatively at the air around his injured hand. Being a most loyal Predacon, Inferno had never seen a genuinely contrite expression before - yet alone one plastered across the face of his Royalty - but when the dinosaur let out a weak moan and dipped his head on some level he vaguely understood the gesture. 

_ All right, _ he told the voice.  _ Something is  _ definitely  _ wrong. My Royalty would never - _ he couldn’t even bring himself to think the word ‘apologise’, it seemed like heresy. It  _ was _ heresy. 

_ The Maximal weapon _ , the voice replied. It had to be. It had done something to his Queen - stuck him in his Beast mode and reduced his mind to that of some kind of  _ animal _ . “A deep offense,” he hissed aloud, fury blooming in his chest. “How  _ dare  _ they do this to you, my Queen!” 

The dinosaur looked at him uncertainly, a small cock of the head at the word ‘Queen’. 

Inferno tried to think. He was used to being a drone, following whatever orders his Royalty gave him for the glory of their colony. Megatron seldom asked him to use his own initiative and Inferno would be the first to admit that whilst his spark and body were willing, his mind could never be as brilliant as that of his Queen. It was not meant to be. He was the instrument of another’s will, and tools never had to think for themselves.

_ Pacify _ . The unfamiliar word came back to him. That was what Rhinox had shouted at Primal - something something  _ pacify _ .  _ Hopefully, anyway _ . 

“Computer,” he said, somewhat timidly. The Darksyde’s AI was technically open to all Predacons, but accessing her inside his Royalty’s chambers still felt awkward. “Define word...pacify?” 

“Pacify,” parroted the cool, calm voice of the AI. “Verb. ‘To quell the anger of’.” 

Inferno glanced at Megatron as he stomped across the room once more and climbed into the energon bath, bent over to sniff at the small ball of yellow plastic, then rejected it with a sweep of his clawed foot and lay down on it instead. “Computer, can this...pacify...happen to Predacons?”

“Query unclear.” 

“Could the Maximals make a weapon that makes Predacons pacify?”

“Pacified,” corrected the AI. “Query still unclear. Narrow query.” 

Inferno growled in frustration. No wonder the Royalty was always cross if this was what he had to deal with on an average day.  _ Not that the Royalty needs a reason to be cross! He can burn in anger if he so desires! _

_ Oh, shut up. _

He concentrated on what had happened on the battlefield. He had been stood beside his Queen, firing upon Cheetor and Rhinox as they hide behind a rocky outcropping like the dirt the Maximals were. Then Rhinox had shouted something over to Primal, who had been downwind in a crevice facing off against Waspinator and Blackarachnia, and the words Inferno hadn’t understood had been exchanged, and then Rhinox had pushed a large gun barrel above his position and fired. The beam had been green, he remembered. And made him feel cold and confused. But it had passed!

...For him. It had passed for  _ him _ . But hadn’t his Queen transformed to Beast Mode almost immediately and called a for a retreat? ( _ Not retreat, a strategically planned strategy _ ). Perhaps he had realised something had been wrong, that he had been compromised and had to get away from the Maximals. And that’s why he had gone to his quarters and slammed the doors and not emerged again. He had realised something about him had changed and isolated himself to work on a solution…

The dinosaur in the bath let out a yawn, eyes drooping. 

But it hadn’t worked. Whatever Rhinox had done had overtaken him, and he’d spent the last two days blundering around his chambers as some kind of mindless beast, waiting for someone to find him. 

“A beam,” he said to the computer. “An energy beam. Could it...instill...pacifies in Predacons?”

“Pacifism,” corrected the AI. “One moment.” Then: “Theoretically, an energy beam could be used in a manner that disrupts higher brain functions in Cybertronian processors. With the higher functions shut down, the instinctual programming installed with Beast modes would take over. Add function: pacifism. If the emotional circuits were also compromised, the Beast mode would be pacified.”

“How would…” Inferno concentrated over the sound of snoring coming from behind him. “ _ Pacified _ Beast modes behave?” 

“As domesticated animals.” 

He didn’t recognise that word either, but he got the general gist of its meaning. He approached the bath, still instinctually flinching when his Queen’s left eye opened and focused on him. “I am going to fix this, Royalty!” He declared, clenching his fists. “I swear on my worthless spark that you will be restored to glory and will be smashing Maximals by sunset today!”

The dinosaur looked at him balefully, then his eye drooped closed and he began snoring once more. 

“Computer,” Inferno cried, emboldened. “How would we fix the higher brain functions of a Predacon so affected by this hideous Maximal weapon?” 

“I would require the weapon for analysis.” 

Something within Inferno lit up like a firework. A retrieval mission! This he could do. He had done so many times before. Infiltrate, locate, steal. Offer up to the Royalty for praise. All right, so that last part never happened but there were no rules against living in hope.

He paused. That was an unusual thought.  _ Perhaps the weapon affected me more than I realised. _

_ Perhaps it did, _ whispered the traitor-voice that had only appeared once he had been hit with it.

*

“Waspinator not understand,” said Waspinator. It was his most common phrase.

Inferno cycled air through his vents and tried to maintain his temper. No matter how irritating he might be, he needed Waspinator for this task - he was the only one he could... _ trust _ ...not to figure out that something was wrong. 

He had left his Queen dozing in the bath and had locked the doors with his code, praying that Megatron would not try to free himself and come to harm in his absence.

“It’s very simple,” he said. “The Royalty has instructed that we go to the Maximal base to lay claim on a weapon kept there! And he does not expect you to question his orders!”

Waspinator looked suspicious. “Why ant telling Waspinator this, though?” He buzzed. “Why Megatron not order Waspinator?” 

Inferno bashed him on the head with his fist. “Because our Queen is  _ busy _ ,” he snapped, “and has delegated that particular responsibility to  _ me _ .” 

This seemed to work. Waspinator’s hands fidgeted with one another and he glanced over Inferno’s shoulder as though expecting Megatron to be there scowling back at him. “Megatron has plans?” He asked anxiously, wings jittering behind him. “Waspinator can help with plans.” 

“Good,” said Inferno, hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Then we will leave at once. For the Royalty!”

Waspinator didn't echo his sentiments. 

*

Many Maximals who had come across Rampage had assumed, quite wrongfully, that he was stupid; little more than a berserk bruiser whose only consideration was the acquisition of violence. That was their mistake and they were all dead now - dead in the most final of ways, bodies and minds utterly destroyed before their sparks had been ripped from their housings -  but the opinion persisted amongst the Predacon ranks and he was tiring of it. 

He knew his colleagues saw him as little more than an animal on a chain, bent to a squeeze of Megatron’s fist around the cage that contained his half-spark, and it was something he was looking forward to ‘correcting’ once he was free. 

Slowly.

And painfully. 

And if he had to give examples whilst extracting their own life forces from their lifeless bodies, why, he could use  _ this very day _ . Because the others may have been too blind to notice (or enjoying their freedom too much to care), but he was certain that there was something  _ very wrong _ with their dear leader.

He’d observed Inferno’s two-day vigil. He’d observed how jumpy the ant was whenever he had tried to approach the door. And he had, earlier this morning, observed the ant shouting “ _ Royalty, I fear you are in distress so I am going to use the override to open your door. If you don’t want me to, please tell me. _ ” 

Inferno was not clever. 

Rampage was.

And now he stood outside the doors to Megatron’s chambers in his Beast mode, large claws clicking in frustration as he surveyed them. He’d attempted to steal back what was rightfully his twice now, and in retaliation the entrance had been strengthened to a ludicrous degree. He’d only realised after the failed second theft that Megatron had left himself wide open in order to learn how Rampage would approach him and defend against it accordingly. The slagger. 

He’d tried to watch Inferno input the override code but had been wary of being caught, and had therefore only managed to see the first half of it. It was a twenty-seven digit number of which he only had ten digits, so trying to guess the rest was a near-impossibility. Forcing the doors, he had discovered, was a near-impossibility. And it was not possible to burrow or climb on the Darksyde.

The only other option was to do something clever with the wiring. And after discovering that Inferno had left the Darksyde with Waspinator on some sort of Maximal-based mission, Rampage had all the time in the world to work his violent charms on the veins and arteries of the accursed ship he was stuck in.

*

Inferno, covered in several different types of dust from crawling in the Maximal venting system, flew back to the Darksyde several hours later with a strange-looking gun under one arm and most of Waspinator under the other. He had briefly considered leaving his comrade’s pieces littered across the ground around the Axalon after he had used him as a distraction to sneak aboard and snatch the gun from a secure cabinet on the bridge, but had reasoned that the Royalty would be most displeased if he lost one of his troops - no matter how irritating. One could not have a colony, after all, without a certain amount of drones. 

He waited until the coast was clear to toss Waspinator into a CR Chamber for repair, then headed into the bowels of the Darksyde to his Royalty’s chambers, humming a mindless tune to himself. He tried very hard not to ever be  _ pleased _ over his performance - pleasure or lack thereof was his Royalty’s to bestow - but he had successfully retrieved the cursed Maximal weapon and was confident that the ship’s AI would be able to use it to repair whatever it had done to his Queen’s mind. Things were looking up. 

And then they weren’t. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that the passcode panel was hanging off the wall and that the doors to Megatron’s quarters were wide open, shadows from within flickering ominously in the light. Panicked, he ran across the threshold to find Rampage leaning over his slumbering Queen, claws open and jaws drooling. 

The berserker turned towards him with a roar, clearly preparing to charge. Without thinking Inferno raised the Maximal weapon and fired it as the monstrous crab leapt into the air. The beam shone a brilliant bright green as it lanced across the room and struck Rampage across his torso. Rhinox had only fired it in one small burst when he had targeted Inferno and Megatron on the battlefield; Inferno kept his finger on the trigger and kept firing until Rampage collapsed in a heap at his feet. 

Megatron stirred, optics snapping open at the sound of crunching metal, and peered over the side of the tub at the collapsed heap that had formerly been his greatest warrior. He emitted a soft “rahr?” at the sight, clearly confused by it, before his eyes travelled upwards and caught sight of Inferno. There was a loud thump as his large tail gave a half-sparked wag, then he was hauling himself to his feet and charging.

“My Queen, please -” was all Inferno managed before the dinosaur struck him head-on in the chest and he was knocked backwards onto the floor, just managing to keep his claws wrapped around the precious Maximal weapon. He lay on his back, dazed, as the tyrannosaurus rex’s large purple head loomed over him, eyes fixed on his face, and let out a choked “oh no” as the jaws opened to once again showcase those sharp metal teeth.

Inferno was certainly not opposed to the idea of dying for his cause, much less his Queen, and would have been the first to sacrifice himself should the need have arisen. But in this one, very specific instance it was imperative that he remain alive, and for the first time in his life he wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. He was the only one who knew that this Royalty required assistance, and if he died then Megatron may never be right again. 

“Computer,” he cried as the jaws approached his face, “close the Royalty’s chamber doors!” 

“Query unclear,” replied the AI. “Specify.” 

Inferno squirmed uncomfortably. “Close...ngh... _ Megatron’s _ chamber doors!” 

The doors snapped shut and he vented a resigned sigh. Then: “I have located the Maximal weapon! Scan it and work out how to get Meg - my Queen - back to normal! Quickly!” 

“Complying.” 

If not cured, then at least his Royalty would be safe for the time being, and the computer would hopefully be able to develop some sort of cure for future deployment. Perhaps Waspinator would find him and be able to help. 

_ No chance in the Pit _ , the traitor-voice whispered. 

The jaws opened wider and Inferno shuttered his optics out of respect and braced himself for the end; he hoped his Royalty would at least enjoy the meal. 

The jaws stopped, and a peculiar expression came over the dinosaur’s face. Well - most of the expressions he had used today were peculiar, but this one was surely the strangest so far. One eye open, one eye flickering half-closed. The right side of his metal lips curling up to display even more of the teeth beneath it. A heaved grunt from the throat. 

“Scanning twenty-five percent complete,” said the AI. 

Megatron sneezed. 

The force propelled him back several steps, and he swiped ineffectually at his nose with his short front arms, letting out a sulky whine when he discovered he couldn’t reach the affected nostrils. He shook his head from side-to-side and sneezed again, a smaller one this time, before scrunching his nose into the floor itself, dragging it along the metal and creating a short screeching sound.  

Inferno sat up, staring, then looked down at himself and recalled that he was covered in dust from the Maximal vents. “My apologies,  Royalty,” he scrambled to his feet and approached the distressed dinosaur, unsure of how to assist. “I did not mean to -” 

“Please do not move the Maximal weapon,” the AI chided. “Scan disrupted.” 

Inferno placed the gun on the floor and kicked it away from where Rampage lay.

“Resuming scan.” 

His Queen headbutted him, but this time with far less force than before. The eyes had a question in them that Inferno did not know how to answer, and when he failed to acknowledge it the Royalty made a disgruntled sort of sound and rubbed the tip of his snout against Inferno’s chest, snuffling. 

“Oh!” So it was something he  _ did _ understand after all. Whenever he stayed in his Beast mode for too long outside in the miserable dustpan that was this planet’s offering of scenery, his mandibles would grow itchy from the sand and he’d have to either transform to take care of the problem with his hands or rub them against a rocky outcrop to rid himself of the sensation.

“Scanning fifty percent complete,” the AI chimed.

“Forgive my impertinence.” Inferno raised his claws and scratched as gently as he could at the rims of the dinosaur’s nostrils. The eyes flickered again and his Queen raised his right leg from the ground and batted at the air with it, mirroring the circular motions of Inferno’s hands. After a few moments he pulled away, seeming satisfied, and gave one of his “boofs” as thanks. 

“Scanning seventy-five percent complete,” sang the AI. 

Rampage stirred. Inferno made a move for the gun, remembered it had to remain stationary, and instead backed away from the heaving crab, holding out a thin red arm to coax the dinosaur back with him. Megatron took precisely two steps backwards before stopping, refusing to go any further. He was watching the crab with blank curiosity, snout twitching as he scented the air, and didn’t seem to be aware of any danger.

Rampage righted himself and took a tipsy step to the left, stopped, stayed still. From his mandibles came a low clicking sound, and his optics swept the room before focusing on the Royalty. The clicks became longer and louder, and Rampage lunged.

Megatron roared. The sound blasted across the quarters and Rampage stopped in his tracks, raised his claws, emitted a chattering sound and crouched. 

Inferno watched, fascinated, as the tyrannosaurus rex approached the cowering crab and sniffed at it, pawed at it with his hind claws, then bent at the knees and growled at it. The crab scuttled back, chittering madly, before rushing to the room’s doors and banging on them with its claws. His Queen’s response was to make a sound that sounded like a laugh and strike at the floor with his feet as though he were preparing to charge.

“Scan complete.” 

Inferno vented in relief. “And?”

“Higher brain functions are only disabled, not damaged, and I can reactivate them with a infrasonic tone set at 5 to 9Hz. This will induce temporary offline status in the affected units. Upon awakening their processors will hard-reboot and restore higher brain functions.” 

Inferno eyed the situation brewing between the dinosaur and the crab. 

“Computer, activate the... _ infrasonic tone _ ! Quickly, before there’s any more mess made in his royal chambers!”

*

Megatron awoke to a thumping processor-ache that set his denta on edge. He felt unusually foggy, as though the world around him was slightly out of sync with his data inputs, and he bristled as he accessed his short-term memory and found a sizeable gap in it. The last thing he recalled was being on the battlefield, firing on his hated Maximals and their sheer  _ gall _ at invading Predacon territory without provocation. Then, nothing.

Not. Ideal.

There was a small, embarrassed-sounding cough to his right. He blinked, took in the fact he was seated in his favourite chair in his chambers and that his usual energon IV was hooked up to his left arm, and then glanced at the origin of the sound. Inferno was stood to attention next to him, arm raised in salute.

There was no way in the entirety of the Pit that he was going to admit to _ Inferno _ that he couldn’t remember how he got here.

“What do you want?” He asked dismissively, hoping this would prompt a report and that he could figure things out from there. 

“Forgive my intrusion into your innermost of sanctums,” Inferno said, and Megatron had to use every ounce of willpower at his disposal to not roll his optics at his unnecessary verbosity. “But I wanted to check on your status.” 

“My status,” Megatron snapped, “is none of your concern,  _ ant _ . If that is the only reason you have crawled your way into my…” He paused. “How  _ did  _ you get into my quarters?”

Inferno had the decency to look ashamed. “The override code you graciously supplied me with, Royalty.” 

Megatron narrowed his eyes. “The one that was  _ only _ ever meant to be used in case of emergencies?  _ Ant _ ?” He leaned his entire tone on that last word, each and every letter of it ringing with threat. 

Inferno made that odd coughing noise again. “Forgive me, my Queen, but do you recall the events of the last three days?”

“The Maximal attack?” 

“And...what happened after it…?”

Their optics met. Megatron ground down on his teeth in frustration, and spat: “Explain.” 

Inferno shuffled on his feet. “It is...ahm...difficult, my Queen -” He watched Megatron’s face split as he bared his teeth in displeasure and hurried out: “The Maximals made a weapon that trapped you in your Beast mode and stripped you of your higher brain functions and you thought you were a dinosaur but it’s fine because I stole the gun and the colony’s AI repaired you and you’ve been asleep for a day but I told everyone you were busy planning things and to leave you be so it’s all okay and nobody knows what happened except for Rampage but he doesn’t really know and he’s in a CR Chamber now being repaired after you ripped his claws off.” 

Megatron took a moment to process what he had been told, and chose to ignore the majority of it. “And where is the Maximal weapon now?” 

Inferno hung his head. “Destroyed, Royalty. Our mainframe had to use a...an infrasonic tone to restore your functions, but this caused the weapon to malfunction and...catch fire. A lot of fire. It was most impressive, the way it burrrrned...” He glanced over Megatron’s shoulder. Turning his chair, the Predacon leader spied a small burnt patch on the floor of his quarters. And…

“Why is my entire chamber covered in waste energon?” He bellowed, standing and wrenching the IV plugs from his arm. He rounded on Inferno, blue energon streaming down his wrist, and pushed his forefinger into his soldier’s face. “Was this  _ your _ doing?” 

“No, Royalty!” Inferno protested. “From what I could tell your Beast form seemed to enjoy splashing...in the...bath...tub…” He stopped, evidently horrified that he had let that tidbit of information slip.

They stared at one another.

“Inferno,” said Megatron, quietly.

“Yes, my Queen?” 

“You will immediately wipe from your memory banks  _ anything  _ my Beast form indulged in these past few days.” 

“Yes, my Queen.” 

“And you will  _ stop calling me that _ .” 

“Yes, my...Royalty.”

An impasse. 

Much to digest.

“You will report back here within the hour with the necessary supplies and clean my quarters from top to bottom,” said Megatron, eventually, because Inferno’s keen eyes were boring into him and something had to be said. “Go.” 

Inferno’s eyes widened. “ _ Really _ ?” He breathed. “ _ Thank you _ , Royalty!” He scampered towards the door, then paused. “The override code…”

Megatron opened his mouth to say it would be cancelled with immediate effect, and then reconsidered. “...Will depend on how good a job you perform,” he finished. That way he could think on the matter further and still blame Inferno should he decide to revoke it.

Inferno saluted. “I will clean your quarters with such fervance that in mere hours they will be fit for a Queen once more,” he said, and left before Megatron could admonish him on his choice of words.

Megatron slumped back down in his chair and put his head in his hands. How  _ humiliating _ . He despised being out of control - which is why he chose not to consume high grade to excess even as everyone around him was falling down drunk - but there was a small part of him that was grateful that he could not recall the events of the last seventy-two hours. If he could, he thought he might just murder everyone on the Darksyde and start all over again from scratch.

Which was never a bad idea, really.

He looked up, intending to ask the computer AI if there was any salvageable information she might have on the Maximal weapon, and his eyes fell on the almost empty energon bath in front of his personal viewscreen. Looking at it gave him a plethora of feelings he couldn’t quite define. He stood, ignoring the energon still dripping down his arm, and approached it cautiously, as though it were a trap.  _ Perhaps it is. Perhaps that ant has finally flipped his top and has decided to kill me with a cleverly-placed… _

He shook his head at his own paranoia. Inferno was not intelligent enough to betray him, yet alone set any kind of trap that didn’t involve blasting his enemies to smithereens whilst cackling maniacally and ranting about burning things. In fact there had been a distinct lack of cackling in their prior conversation and he realised that he found that quite unnerving. 

He would have to unleash Inferno upon the Maximals soon. Get some of that fervour back,  _ yes _ .

Despite knowing he was alone, he looked around anyway before stepping daintily into the tub and to stand in the middle, hands on hips. There were a few small puddles of drying energon left at his feet, and he hesitated for only a moment before he lifted one foot and slammed in down in the goo, sending streaks of it flying. 

The action triggered a memory. 

_ A large metal dinosaur happily jumping up down in a pool full of energon, covered in the stuff, the plastic yellow duck skewered in its jaws squeaking out a demented tune as he bounced.  _

When Inferno arrived back at his quarters twenty minutes later, Megatron was seated in his chair once more, staring blankly at a datapad. The two ignored one another for the entirety of Inferno’s visit, but just before he was permitted to leave Megatron bestowed two orders upon him:

  1. He could keep the override code and
  2. He was to find as many Maximals as he could and _make them burn for what they had done to him_



The response, predictably, had been “yes, my Queen!” 


End file.
